Werewolves of London
by EasySilverDoesIt
Summary: They say it's human to make mistakes, but when one mistake leads to becoming something that's not quite human, well, then Hermione Granger is in over her intelligent Formerly A Darker Shade of Slight AU rated for violence


**A Darker Shade Of White**

Chapter 1: Look Around: In which a hunt for potion ingredients goes abso-bloody-lutly wrong and the consequences are less less than enjoyable.

Hermione yelp softly as she tripped over yet another large tree root that was _conveniently_ between her and a specific plant that the she needed in the forbidden forest that night.

Professor Granger had lived and worked at Hogwarts as the Potions Mistress for nearly two years now, and was currently the youngest professor to work there. Actually, she was most likely the youngest professor to _ever_ work there.

"Bloody hell!" Hermione yelped again, trying as hard as she could to keep quiet; it would do her no good to alert every creature in the surrounding kilometer of her presence.

As the professor trudged on, she became increasingly aware that someone, or something, seemed to be watching her. The hair on the back of her neck rose but she still had sense not to call out and ask who was there; to do something that increasingly foolish would bring about almost certain death in a forest full of magical creatures at _night._

_'Of course, in all likely hood, I really am being watched by something. This _is_ the Forbidden Forest.'_

After several more over grown tree roots, a blow to the head from one of the same offending trees that had tripped her and about an hour of lapsed time, Hermione stumbled, quite befuddled and not amused in the least, into a large clearing that she knew monkshood grew in.

"Hallelujah."

The blue flowered plant gleamed in the light of the full moon, and as Hermione walked over to pick the delicate stems, she was again overcome with the dread that comes with being watched.

A twig snapped a hundred feet away.

Her brown eyes darted up at the sudden noise, narrowed in on a dark grey patch of fur, luminescent in the dim light, and then widened in shocked terror.

Then time seemed to slow; seconds became minutes as Hermione scrambled backwards, just as the owner of said pelt exploded from the underbrush toward her, fangs and claws bared.

The young Potions Mistress made it two steps before she stumbled and fell backwards into a patch of the bright blue flowers, the leaves and petals cushioned her fall, but obviously did nothing to stop the impending attack of the snarling dark grey creature.

A suddenly as the start of the attack had been, it stopped, silence reigned for a brief moment, then pain exploded across her stomach as bared teeth sunk into her flesh, releasing the venom, the poison, that would forever scar her; body and soul.

It felt like a hundred, red-hot arrows were imbedded in her side and she did the only thing she could:

She shrieked, screamed louder than it seemed a human possibly could; a horrible, terrifying sound that ripped into her vocal cords, tore through the cool night air, and was so full of pain, torture, and _agony, _that it was sure to make even the most brave of men cower in fear.

She thrashed, kicked, punched, did _anything _her body could possibly do in order to preserve itself.

It was in vain.

Nothing she did seemed to have an effect on the towering grey creature that was currently pinning her, with it teeth sunk into her abdomen, nothing fazed it, nothing helped to ease the terrifying, excruciating pain that she was in.

Hermione could do nothing but lay in the flowers, the weight of a huge beast pressed on her, the agony of a thousand knives cutting through her entire body and her vision blurred with tears and sweat.

At some point, however, the pain receded and ebbed away slowly, though much of it remained, the beast left, how or why she wasn't sure, and the morning sun rose over the tree tops, bathing the young women in light.

For what seemed like days, though it could have been months or years, she had no idea of how much time was passing, Hermione lay on the ground, clinging to consciousness, half alive and half dead, slowly bleeding out onto the monkshood flowers, turning the dark blue petals to a sickly purple with her blood.

The next thing she could remember, she was in a warm room, on soft pillows, looking into the concerned face of Madam Pomfrey.

xxXXBreeilnabaneXXxx

"Are you- dear? Can- hear me?" Hermione could tell Madam Pomfrey was talking but the feeling of floating on clouds and the ringing in her ears was _not _doing her any favors when it came to actually listening to what the healer was saying.

Hermione almost immediately knew she was in the hospital wing of Hogwarts; it smelled strongly of antibacterial soap and disinfectants, and she could see the bleach white curtains that surrounded her bed.

"Hermione, dear, can you hear me?"

As soon as her exact words entered in Hermione's mind and were unscrambled to make sense, the young professors eyes focused on the medi-witches face, then on the ceiling, and finally came to rest on another face, a very recognizable one at that, Headmaster Dumbledore's.

Hermione didn't answer, she closed her eyes and groaned as reawakened pain shot through her lower stomach and side.

Twisting to look down, and ignoring the protesting of her body, she looked at her heavily bandaged waist and moaned.

"What happened?" Hermione managed asked i ahorse voice as she slumped back into the pillows, fighting to keep the nausea she felt at bay.

"You were attacked, dear," Madam Pomfrey said softly, "In the Forbidden Forest. You've been unconscious here for nearly a week. It took quite a toll on you."

"How did I get here?"

"Hagrid found you in the monkshood clearing. He brought you here when he realized who you were."

_'Thank god for Hagrid.' _Hermione thought as she closed her eyes, willing the constant pain to go away. Unsurprisingly, it did not.

A faint chiming sounded from the other side of the curtain, somewhere within the hospital wing and Madam Pomfrey bustled toward the sound, saying something about 'that time already?'

Feeling rather exhausted, Hermione relaxed ever so slightly and glanced up into the caring face of Albus Dumbledore. It was only then that she felt pressure against her fingers and realized that the Headmaster she had known for so long was lightly holding her hand as he sat next to the white bed.

"Thank you, Headmaster..." Hermione muttered sleepily into the pillows.

"Of course, my dear. You are very welcome."

After a brief period of time, Madam Pomfrey was back will rolls of gauze and a few other things floating behind her.

"Alright, dearie, time to change your bandages, I'll have to every so often until I can completely heal your wounds." The medi-witch blinked as she noticed what she had said and cast a glance at Dumbledore.

Unfortunately, Hermione had heard and almost immediately she was awake, her eyes wide.

"What do you mean, 'completely heal my wounds?' I've been here a week and still, I'm not healing at all?" The young Potions Mistress asked, her voice steadily rising, while Madam Pomfrey tried to calm her down once she realized Hermione was going a bit hysterical.

"It's fine, Hermione, you're okay, I just haven't the foggiest what attacked you, but rest assured that once I do, you will be perfectly alright."

"You don't know what attacked me?" The young professor seemed to calm down a tiny amount, but the panic soon seemed to edge its way back into her eyes as if she were remembering something.

It was Dumbledore's turn to speak before the medi-witch could say anything further. "The most important thing for you to do is rest, Ms. Granger, and I daresay that you will be perfectly well in no time at all."

Leaning back into the infirmary pillows, Hermione's bloodshot eyes met Dumbledores. She looked away and then spoke after a few seconds.

"I think... I think it was a wolf."

"That bit you?" Madam Pomfrey asked gently, "No, my dear, the bite is to irregular to be a wolf, it was something else, though right now heaven only knows, could be a mermaid or a Hinky-punk. Don't worry yourself, Hermione, we'll have you in top shape soon enough. Now, hold still, I need to change the bandages." As Poppy unwrapped her abdomen and rewrapped it using new gauze, Hermione was silent, staring off into space with next to no discernible expression on her face and Dumbledore pondered her words.

A wolf?

He wouldn't rule out that as a possibility, no matter what shape the bite was. Making a mental note to owl a particular person to ask their opinion, Dumbledore watched Poppy tend to the Potions Mistress with a thoughtful look.

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Dumbledore had left for his study soon after Hermione had gotten her bandages changed, on account that she had dozed off half way through, and had Poppy promise to contact him in the event that the Potions Mistresses condition changed for better or for worse.

Standing just outside the stone gargoyle that led the way up to his office as he was about to give the password, a voice sounded from the end of the hallway.

"Professor Dumbledore!"

He turned to see McGonagall bustling towards him.

"Ah, Minerva."

"How is she, Albus? Is she awake?" The transfigurations teacher then proceeded to rapidly fire off questions before Dumbledore held up his hand.

"Minerva, still ever doting on your former student, I see. Our Potions Mistress is fine at the present moment, if nothing has changed over the past few minutes, besides the fact that she fails to heal properly." He peered at her over his spectacles. "She is just sleeping now and we still, unfortunately, do not know what attacked her. I would suggest going to see her after dinner."

Professor McGonagall seemed to mentally compose herself as she nodded. "Of course, Albus." The dark haired witch took a deep breath. "She has her whole life ahead of her. She has so much potential, it would be a shame if she..." She shook her head sadly before she departed back the way she had come. "I will see you at the Great-hall, then."

Dumbledore smiled sadly. "Yes."

What McGonagall had said about Hermione was true, too. The younger witch had so much potential, despite being a muggle-born, fighting through a war, and losing people dear to her, she remained strong. Albus agreed with the deputy Head Mistress, it would be very sad if she died.

With that thought, Dumbledore gave the password to the gargoyle, went into his study and started writing out a letter after helping himself to a generous handful of lemon drops.

xxXXBreeilnaBaneXXxx

_There was a soft rustling of leaves as Hermione paced back and forth in the monkshood clearing, the wind rippling through her dark brown fur. Her senses seemed as if they heightened ten-fold; the things she could smell and hear! It was incredible. _Beyond _incredible in fact. She knew it was night time, yet it wasn't as dark as she thought it could be, details on the leaves of trees across the clearing were easily visible._

_What was happening? She didn't even feel like her mind was her own. Instincts were ruling her body, telling her to react certain way to certain things at certain times. _

_One of those instincts told her to bare her teeth and growl deep in her throat, just as another wolf padded out of the tree line. He was dark grey and sandy brown dappled, and was slightly larger than she, but had a distinctly human glow to his golden eyes._

_She padded forward, intent on investigating who this mysterious wolf was, when he vanished, disappeared without a trace and Hermione felt excruciating pain weave a tangled web across her stomach and abdomen._

_As the bright fill moon shone down, she howled her agony at it from her place on the cold, dirt..._

"Hermione, dear, it's okay, calm down it's just a dream, you're fine." Madam Pomfrey tried to sooth the withering woman, who, at the current moment, was shrieking bloody murder, and thrashing around the white hospital bed.

"Hermione, wake up!"

Slowly, the screaming faded to horse moans before Hermione sucked in a deep breath and her eyes flew open, still panting, her hand gripped into the sheets like a iron vice.

"Hermione, thank goodness, I was-" The Medi-witch cut off in shock. The younger woman eyes were no longer a pleasant dark brown, her pupils were huge and they were a light, golden brown as she stared, hyperventilating, into nothingness.

"Hermione?" Madam Pomfrey's voice was a horrified whisper.

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The next morning the Potions Mistress was fully awake and aware again, but refused to even speak to anyone as she whimpered ever so often into the soft pillow her head rest on. Madam Pomfrey thought she might have been poisoned or in a state of shock, but truthfully, Hermione was simply terrified, one hundred and ten percent terrified of everything that was happening. She felt sick, she had strange reactions to smells, and her chest ached from the bite marks and the screaming, plus pain relievers failed to much for her, souring her mood even more, if that were possible.

Most of the time she refused to open her eyes at all, not that she needed to, because her sense of smell was much better than it'd been before, though not extremely amazing the change was still noticeable, making it easy to tell who was around her and even where they had been before.

The wound on her lower stomach still stubbornly refused to heal more than a tiny bit each day and Poppy was getting quite distressed with having to give her patient blood replenished every day, and though she didn't show it around her patient, Hermione could smell fear emitting from her.

After another few days of the same people, the same dream, the same _everything, _someone broke the pattern on the morning of Hermione's fifth day conscious.

Dumbledore came in the afternoon that day, like every day, but this time he was accompanied by another man, younger than the Headmaster but older than herself. Hermione noticed a distinct smell about him, something wild, feral, but also tangy and... good. It seemed to stir some other part of her, some other part of her conscious and Hermione didn't know what to make of it.

She took a deep breath, again tasting the new scent again before the man spoke.

"Professor Granger."

"Professor Lupin."

"I haven't been a Professor in nearly seven years, Hermione. There's no need to call me that."

"I know."

There was the sound of soft footsteps that drew closer to her bed and Lupin taking a deep break through his nose, but she didn't open her eyes.

"Hermione, I need you to answer some questions for me, truthfully, alright?"

The Potions Mistress merely nodded.

"Can you here Professor Dumbledore's heart beat?"

Hermione listened to the sounds in the room, and sure enough, she could hear a strong pulse from where she knew Dumbledore was standing.

"Yes."

"What do I smell like?"

"I- Wait, what?"

"What do I smell like?" Remus repeated, more slowly than the first time.

That was a bit of a surprising question, but she answered it none the less.

"Good." She said before she could stop herself, "Sort of... _different_ and forest like."

"I thought so."

That comment bewildered Hermione. "You thought I'd think you smelled good...?"

Lupin didn't answer right away, as if he were trying to decide how to say something. "Yes. Male werewolves usually smell good to, ah, _unclaimed_ females... And vice-versa." His voice became quieter, then died at the end, probably expecting some reaction from Hermione. All she did was breath deeply, wince at the nagging pain and nod; she didn't look surprised at his words.

Dumbledore, whom had remained silent the entire time, spoke after a moment.

"It seems Ms. Granger, that you were right about being attacked by a wolf."

The 22 year old witch buried her face under the blankets without moving her injured torso.

"Some good does come out of this, I suppose..." Dumbledore said thoughtfully, "We know what ails Ms. Granger, therefore we can heal her."

Both Madam Pomfrey and Lupin nodded, and the Medi-witch walked off, saying something a long the lines of 'flooing someone at St. Mungo's for potions.'

Lupin waved his wand at the corner of the room to beacon a chair over towards the side of Hermione's bed, which he slowly sat down in.

"I am so sorry, Hermione."

I know, kind of obvious, right? We all knew what it was, now we just need to get all excited for the next chapter. What's going to happen and why on earth is Lupin sorry? Was the werewolf him? Will he help his former student? Well, you'd better stay tuned in because I really would like to finish this story! XD

A/N: and that's it for this chapter! Press the little review button, whether you liked this or not and tell me what you think. Good, bad, hell, if you want, post a flame! Just please, _please _tell me what you think, I am very much excited about this and I _really _tried hard not to make it too stupid, or longwinded. Thx! -BreeilnaBane

**REVIEW **_**PLEASE**_**!**


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